


Stupid Bloody Tuesday

by oh_johnny



Series: Stupid Bloody Tuesday [2]
Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, some time alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Bloody Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> I am in the process of archiving some of what I consider my best work from the johnheartpaul comm on lj. This is not new work although it may be new to you.

Paul stirred and stretched, a sound from outside the window penetrating his subconscious and waking him. He lay for a minute gathering his thoughts – day of the week, concert night or day off, what city, what country – and sighed as he realized it was Tuesday and this weekend was over. 

He rolled to his right and lay looking at John’s back. He reached out a tentative hand and traced the line of John’s spine, that curve from shoulder to ass that he loved so much. He let his hand lie at the base of John’s spine, relishing the warmth of John’s skin, the tension of the tour gone after these two days of peace.

Brian had found them this place when they’d threatened to just start snogging in public if he couldn’t find them a way to do it in private. That had worked only because Brian was never entirely sure when John was kidding. Come to think of it, Paul wasn’t entirely sure John had been kidding either, but he really didn’t care. The press this time out had been brutal. There were reporters with them all the time, day and night, and just no way to find any privacy at all. It had been making them both miserable.

So Brian had booked a room in an inn, had sent one of the drivers down to check in and fill out the forms, then had snuck them in the back door. As far as the inn was concerned, a Mr. Robert Jones and business associate were staying in Room 7, and everyone was happy.

Especially John and Paul.

Paul scooted closer to John, wrapping an arm around his waist, nuzzling his neck. John groaned and burrowed further down into the pillows.

“Johnny,” Paul whispered, “Wake up. It’s gone ten, and we need to leave by noon. It’s Tuesday.”

“Stupid bloody Tuesday,” mumbled John.

Paul smiled at that then began to kiss John’s neck.

“C’mon, Johnny, wake up.”

John rolled over and squinted blearily up at Paul.

“Why?” 

Paul smiled down at him and leaned over, brushing John’s lips with his own.

“Because,” he whispered.

John stretched his arms out over his head, his whole body lengthening, muscles taut. As he relaxed the stretch he gathered Paul into his arms, pulling him down onto his chest.

“Oh,” he said, “So it’s like that, is it?”

“Yes,” replied Paul, kissing his chest, “Exactly like that.”

John put his hands either side of Paul’s face and pulled him up to kiss him. The kiss was gentle, loving, a soft pressing together of mouths, an opening dance of tongues. Paul sighed happily, one arm snaking behind John’s head to hold him close. They rolled so they were both lying on their sides, facing each other as they kissed. Paul’s free hand roamed across John’s chest, along his side, down his back, stopping in that dip at the base of his spine again.

John shivered as he felt Paul’s hand rest there, feeling gentle pressure, all his nerve endings suddenly centering on that one spot. It was the most comfortable, most familiar, most erotic of feelings – it was where Paul’s hand rested whenever they made love, holding John to him, connecting them, the hind brain recognizing it as the most intimate of gestures. He rolled over on top of Paul, still holding the kiss, feeling Paul’s body beneath him begin to respond, feeling him get hard, feeling his hips start to rock. 

His knee pushed Paul’s legs apart so he could lie between them, his hand sliding down Paul’s body and pulling one leg up beside him, feeling hard muscle as Paul wrapped the leg around his back. They were both moving now, sliding against each other, hard cocks rubbing together. They broke the kiss, mouths moving to necks, breathing becoming heavier, small noises of pleasure escaping from them.

Paul reached up and took John’s hand from his face, kissing it gently. Then he started to nibble each of John’s fingers, slowly sliding each one into his mouth, tongue curling around, sucking at them. John lifted his head from Paul’s neck to watch, moaning as each finger was sucked into the warmth of Paul’s mouth, feeling himself becoming harder at the sight. Finally, he could stand it no longer and pulled his hand away from Paul, moving in to kiss him, hard, claiming Paul as his own, making his intent very clear.

He broke the kiss only to lean over to the bed side table where they’d left the tube of lube the night before. He knelt between Paul’s legs and lifted Paul’s feet to rest on his shoulders. He spread the lube on his fingers and inserted them, one, then two, then three, into Paul, watching carefully as emotions – pain, pleasure, ecstasy – chased over Paul’s face. Then he took Paul’s hand and spread the lube there, guiding Paul’s hand to his cock. Paul began stroking him, coating him with lube, preparing him, each caress making him shiver.

Then John spread Paul’s legs wide, leaned over him and, mouth locked on Paul’s, took him, thrusting into him firmly, no hesitation at all, in complete command. Paul groaned deep in his throat and pushed up to meet John, his hand resting again on John’s back, pulling him deeper and deeper. They moved together as experienced lovers do, each knowing the other, knowing what was wanted, knowing when to move faster, when to slow down.

As John felt himself about to climax he pulled back from Paul a little so he could look into his face. He stilled for a moment, said, “I love you, Paul,” then gave one final thrust that brought them both over the edge.

As John collapsed on top of him Paul wrapped arms and legs around him, holding him as they both floated in a post-orgasmic haze. He knew, now, that whatever this particular Tuesday held in store for them, he and John would see it through together, and that was all that had ever really mattered.


End file.
